


Poetry

by RefrainGirl



Series: Be My Ineffable Valentine [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: #ineffablevalentines, Adam Young Ships Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Antichrist Adam Young (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley in Love (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Kids (Good Omens), Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Don't copy to another site, Established Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), F/M, First Love, Fluff, Godparents Aziraphale and Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Insecure Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Poetry, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Romantic Gestures, Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Supportive Aziraphale (Good Omens), Supportive Crowley (Good Omens), Valentine's Day Fluff, obviously, time for some ineffable godparenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22549132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RefrainGirl/pseuds/RefrainGirl
Summary: Day 3 of the Ineffable Valentines collection.If Adam had this much trouble broaching the subject of love with his friends, then telling his crush how he felt was definitely out of the question. So… maybe he could show her how he felt in a different way? A more pen-and-paper involved way? He’d written books before. Writing a poem was like writing a book, just with more feelings and less dinosaurs.Adam has experienced his first ever crush, and decides that asking an immortal couple for advice couldn't hurt his chances. Crowley and Aziraphale have loved each other since forever, after all. Surely they can provide some ideas to help him along...
Relationships: Aziraphale & Adam Young (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley & Adam Young (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Adam Young (Good Omens)
Series: Be My Ineffable Valentine [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619938
Comments: 6
Kudos: 54
Collections: Ineffable Valentines 2020





	Poetry

**Author's Note:**

> Adam is such a sweetheart, so I thought it'd be nice to add him to my story! I do adore Aziraphale and Crowley, but I can show their love while other characters I adore are hanging around too! I relate to Adam a lot, because I know absolutely nothing about poetry either.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Adam didn’t know exactly what had spurred him to ask Crowley and Aziraphale for help. Maybe it was because they had a lot of experience with romance (some things stuck out like a sore thumb, whether you were the Antichrist or not), or maybe it was because they had been around since far before his birth. Their knowledge was vast, and their views on humanity were probably better founded than anyone else’s in this day and age. He was sure that they had made it through a thousand successful Valentine’s Days by now. It was possible that they had even been present at the invention of the very first Valentine’s Day. The two of them were, quite literally, bastions of knowledge in almost every regard, and it would be stupid not to capitalize on the fact that you had a demon and an angel to talk to about things beyond your understanding.

Honestly though, he suspected that his feelings for his crush were making him desperate to act and _that_ was the main motivator behind begging his mom to make a trip to London to visit A.Z. Fell and Co.

She thought it was all about books, a newly acquired academic pursuit of his, and was proud of him for pursuing a hobby that could expand his mind. Well, she wasn’t entirely wrong. He _was_ going to expand his mind a bit, just not with books. Most books were a bit boring, especially the thick ones. There were no drawings of creatures or maps of foreign worlds in them, and the print was too small and bunched up, making it hard to read. He didn’t much like reading unless he was borrowing those cool magazines that Anathema kept hidden away in her cottage. At least they had photo evidence of things he could use for reference when writing his own books - which, by the way, were a million times better than any printed novel.

Either way, his true purpose for showing up was not about books, but about asking for advice. Hoping to expand his mind in the world of love, all for the sake of a girl. The idea still confused him a bit. It was all so… new.

“Well, well. If it isn’t _the_ Adam Young,” Crowley drawled after noticing his impish face peeking through the big shop window. He had briskly waved him inside, shaking his hand in greeting because that was the respectful thing for two grown-up men to do. Of course, neither of them could resist doing the secret handshake that Adam had developed for their clandestine meetings, although Crowley always made sure to check over his shoulder before going through with it. “Haven’t seen hide nor hair of you since last year’s Christmas debacle.”

“The mistletoe,” Adam said, smiling in remembrance.

Crowley nodded, sporting an amused grin of his own. “Yup, that’s the one. The mistletoe. Absolutely terrible, putting something like that near the adult’s eggnog bowl. Should be ashamed of yourself.” Although his tone implied that he wished he had thought of it first. He peered through the shop window again, cocking a curious eyebrow. “Speaking of drunken Christmas shenanigans, where’s your mum? Thought she’d be tagging along behind you.”

“Grocery shopping.” That was what she had told him, but Adam suspected that she was probably going to visit all kinds of other stores too while she was here. She loved to browse for things she didn’t necessarily need, like more handbags to add to her already large collection. “I promised I wouldn’t leave the shop until she came to pick me up.”

“She must trust us a great deal, for some reason,” Crowley muttered to himself. “Wonder who put that thought in her head.”

Then he glanced back again, cracking his neck with a quick jerk this way and that. “O-kay, it seems you’re to be in our care for the foreseeable future… or till your mother returns from her ‘grocery shopping’.”

The demon sounded like he believed it about as much as Adam did. “Um, sorry to impose,” he said, recalling that other adults said things like that when they came over to visit out of the blue.

But Crowley didn’t looked annoyed by his presence. “Eh, ‘s fine by me. I’d reached the end of my nap anyway. So, what brings the Antichrist to our neck of the woods?”

Oh, yeah. Back to the real reason why he was here. Adam shrugged a shoulder, suddenly feeling awkward. “I was hoping you guys could… uh…” He hesitated, and Crowley peered thoughtfully down at him, slipping his hands into pockets that had no business fitting hands inside them. This was actually becoming harder than he thought it would be. Somehow, even though he had decided to be brave, the rest of his sentence was sticking in his throat like glue.

Adam didn’t get to see the brief smile of understanding that flitted across Crowley’s face. It was gone by the time he had gathered the courage to glance back up. “Valentine’s Day is right around the corner,” he observed, raising a brow. “Got any plans? The chocolate goes on sale so fast, it’ll make your head spin.”

“Not exactly...”

Crowley tilted his head to the side. “Huh. Not the least bit excited about bargain bin chocolate. That’s odd. Sounds like you’ve got something more pressing on your mind.”

How did he always know? Well, he was a demon, but did demons have a radar for human emotion or something? He’d never met any demon aside from Crowley who could sense that stuff.

Adam sighed, feeling older than he was supposed to feel and not liking it. “Kinda.”

“Thought so. You, uh, wanna talk about it?” It wasn’t a demand, never a demand from Crowley. More like a friendly option, a supportive arm to grab onto when the world span too fast. “We don’t have to, obviously. But I will say that, after living through countless centuries of keeping things locked inside on a low simmer, I know how good it feels to let it all out. If you’re down for that.”

The demon was glancing casually about the shop, hands still tucked in his pockets. He wasn’t making any move to block the way, or to keep Adam in the shop till he changed his mind. All he was doing was patiently waiting, giving him space to come to his own decision. He had given him a clear way out if he wanted to take it, and Adam was more than grateful for being handed the option. He even briefly considered accepting that offer.

But after giving it a decent amount of consideration, he knew that running away wasn’t going to fix his problem. No matter how anxious he felt about expressing these foreign feelings, he was here now, and he had to make the most of it while he had the chance. He had to stand his ground, just like he did at the Tadfield Airbase when the four horsemen had come to terrorize the people that he cared about.

Besides, this bookshop was one of the safest places in the world, so it would be easier to explain himself here than anywhere else.

Adam eventually nodded, still feeling a bit self-conscious about what he was about to say, and Crowley gave him a quick smile in response. “Great. Oh, and take your time, kid. We aren’t going anywhere.” He jabbed his thumb towards the back of the shop. “In fact, I have it on good authority that the angel loves to make up batches of hot cocoa for his customers.”

“I can hear you, Crowley! You incorrigible tempter!” Aziraphale scolded him loudly from the next room, and the demon smirked over at Adam as if to say ‘wait for it’. There was a heartbeat of silence. “Is that Adam you’re with? I thought I could feel an abrupt rise in loving energy around here. Has he asked for cocoa?”

“Yeah, the kid’s here and we’re both in need of a cup. C’mon, chop-chop!”

He clapped his hands for effect, and Adam heard Aziraphale snort. “I am not a butler, and even if I was, I wouldn’t respond to claps!”

“Please, angel? Cocoa?”

Crowley waggled his eyebrows, pointing behind him as a heavily put upon sigh reached their ears. “Oh, alright. Since you asked nicely, I suppose I can make you some too.”

It took a bit of effort for Adam to stifle his laughter. “Thaaank youuu,” Crowley sang, falling into a deep and dramatic bow as if he had reached the end of an elaborate stage play.

“You are impossible, Crowley, honestly.”

The grin on his face turned into something achingly fond, and it reminded Adam of how he always felt whenever he thought about his crush. “Love you, too,” he called, tilting down his shades just enough to wink over at Adam.

* * *

“You’re in love for the first time ever?”

“Um, yeah. I think I love her,” he said, furrowing his brows. “I’m not really sure, yet.”

“Not sure. Gotcha. Okay, lemme ask you this, Adam.”

Crowley had been taking up the entire couch with his long, sharply angled body, but in an instant he was swinging his legs down and pushing up into a sitting position. Both hands folded into a pyramid that he could rest his chin on, his elbows leaning their weight on his knees. “How often d’you think about this girl?”

Adam gripped his own chin as he thought about it. “Almost every day. Sometimes I have to do chores though, and sometimes when I’m playing with Dog I get busy so I forget to. Is that bad?”

He couldn’t really explain why, but Crowley was smiling gently at him. “Hey, no worries. ‘S normal. Can’t spend every hour swooning, nothing gets done otherwise. As long as she’s important to you, that’s all that matters.”

“Aren’t you one to talk,” Aziraphale teased, stepping into the back room holding a tray of piping hot mugs. He balanced it on his forearm with the graceful ease of an expert, ruffling the demon’s fiery hair as he passed. “How many times have you put everything you were planning on hold just to come spend the day with me?”

His tone had made Crowley sputter indignantly, but he ignored him as he bent to offer some cocoa to their guest. “Remember Adam, you must take everything Crowley says with a pinch of salt. He does so love to embellish things.”

Adam wasn’t all that surprised. He carefully picked the middle mug out of the three presented to him. “Both of you are pretty good at that, actually,” he said, and Aziraphale chuckled.

“It may seem so, but Crowley has always been the most proficient in the art of embellishment. I’m a bit more subtle than all that. I prefer to… well, you humans might call it ‘exploiting loopholes’.”

That did kinda look like it was more his speed.  
  
Crowley scoffed, irritably fixing his hair, which had gone more than a little askew from the angel’s idea of a nice petting, and the frown on his face deepened. “Oi! I do not _embellish_ ,” he complained in a low growl. “It’s called ‘adding a little flair’. Totally different shtick. You’d do well to remember that, Aziraphale.”

“Of course, dearest. Will do.”

“But you gotta admit, I have a point!”

The angel smiled, settling himself down next to Crowley with a brief pat to his leg. “I never said you didn’t.”

His hand lingered a couple of seconds longer than necessary, and Crowley’s face turned so red that it could have been an exact match for the collar of his jacket. He turned away with a huff. “Love is nothing short of madness,” he said, sounding like he was speaking from experience.

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up upon hearing it, as if the sentence had triggered a happy memory. “That sounds familiar,” he mused, reaching for the remaining mugs and handing the hottest one to Crowley, who was continually refusing to look at anybody. Probably because his face was still burning like a bushfire. “It almost reminds me of something Shakespeare wrote. I love watching his more romantic plays. He was a master of capturing the essence of real romance - though I do occasionally wonder if he should claim full credit for that. As I recall, he took quite a lot of one-liners from you over the years.”

The demon made a less than proper face. “Pshh. The guy just happened to be listening in. Let ‘im have the credit, doesn’t matter,” he muttered, taking a large sip of cocoa that would have burned the inside of anyone else’s mouth. “I don’t care. Not like I’d ever write a poem, anyway.”

“You could easily do just that, if you wanted,” Aziraphale pointed out. “I mean no offense to the chap, of course, but I believe that you have talent, Crowley. Enough so that you could have rivaled our good friend Shakespeare back in the day.”

“Nah, not worth it,” he said, shrugging disinterestedly. His leg slid up to bring the heel of his snakeskin boot down on the edge of the table, causing the angel to frown in disapproval, but Crowley kept on like he hadn’t done anything wrong. “I might’ve considered writing a thing or two, but Someone knows how torturous it is to write sentiments that can never be read. Probably wouldn’t have been entertaining for me. ‘Sides, it’s not necessary anymore, angel.”

“Not necessary?”

Adam could tell by his tone that Aziraphale had discovered a way of getting the demon back for putting his boots on the table. His eyes smiled over at Crowley from behind his mug, and Adam found himself leaning in to witness the event.

“Ah, I understand. Every word you speak is a poem for my ears alone. Is that why you have no desire to write?”

That seemed to catch Crowley off guard a bit and Adam snickered, watching him spit his drink all over himself in a fluster. “What!? Who gave you that idea!?”

The smile brightened. “You did, dearest.”

“Uh. Well…” He shook off his arm, sighing as the chocolate ran in dark rivulets down his front. In the end he snapped it away, sighing and blushing all over again. “Y’know, you really are a…”

Crowley looked like he had been about to say more, but a quick glance reminded him of Adam’s presence in the room and he simply waved his hand instead. “Well, you know what you are.”

“Just enough of one to be worth knowing?” The angel giggled in amusement. “It’s sweet of you to say so.”

“Uh-huh. Wasn’t trying to be sweet that time.”

Adam didn’t know what they were talking about, since they were using some kind of lover-y speech that he wasn’t old enough to discern yet; but what he did know was that he was suddenly fascinated with the idea of creating a poem of his own. When he heard Crowley speak those words about madness and whatnot, it seemed to reach him on a level that said ‘you can use this’.

If Adam had this much trouble broaching the subject of love with his friends, then telling his crush how he felt was definitely out of the question. So… maybe he could show her how he felt in a different way? A more pen-and-paper involved way? He’d written books before. Writing a poem was like writing a book, just with more feelings and less dinosaurs.

Unless dinosaurs were a key element in love poems. That was one more question he’d have to ask Crowley. Could he put dinosaurs in his poem for the girl he liked? She probably liked dinosaurs. Who wouldn’t?

“But enough about us. We should let Adam talk for a while,” Crowley was saying. “I mean, he came all the way to Soho just for advice. It’s serious stuff, angel, and we can’t expect to help ‘im if we don’t know the whole story.”

A curious expression had slipped onto Aziraphale’s face at the mention of providing advice, and he looked like he was about to slip into a long-winded speech that he had prepared for just such an occasion when Adam cleared his throat. They both turned towards him, giving him their undivided attention in so abrupt a way that he had to blink back his surprise.

“Um. While you guys were talking, I thought about something I could do for her… How hard is it to write a poem?” he asked hesitantly. “Like, is it really all about thous and shalt nots? Or can I just use normal words?”

Crowley gave him a reassuring look. “You can write it however you want, Adam. All you gotta do is string a few words together till they sound good.”

“Yes, exactly! It can appear to be intimidating, but once you find a rhythm it’s not so bad,” Aziraphale said, smiling proudly to himself as he added, “I’ve written a few drabbles myself, on occasion. I thought they turned out rather well, considering.”

Deciding to add an example to the mix, Crowley waved his hand in a perfectly Shakespearian manner. “Love is to air as blood is to body.” Then he relaxed into his regular lazy pose, draping himself along the length of the couch with his legs crossed in Aziraphale’s lap. “How hard was that? Just a few words, set up in a pleasing way. Easy-peasy. And just ‘cause Will was a good writer doesn’t mean you have to write like he did. There’re lots of new age poets who write in freestyle and evoke emotion just as well as he could. Nobody said you have to go to school to study it or anything. I didn’t.”

“Yes well, you never had the need to, Crowley. You have always been quite artistically inclined.”

“Mmh. Dunno about that, but thanks anyway, angel.”

Adam smiled, found himself wanting what they had. Not kissing or hugging or that other adulty, mushy stuff, but… the closeness of being together. The intimacy of knowing each other like the back of your hand. Being best friends above whatever else a relationship brought to the door. The angel didn’t even bat an eye when Crowley took up the entire couch for himself. He smiled and rested his arms on top of his legs, just a simple gesture but it was communicating so much more than Adam’s mind could possibly comprehend.

He was pretty sure that he liked this girl, but he wanted to be a friend first. He wanted to earn her affection, if possible, and to do that he was going to need some support. “Could you help me write a poem for her? Please?”

Crowley’s mouth fell open a little. “What?”

“You’re real good with words, Mr. Crowley, and I sorta am too. Just not so much with poem-type words… but if we worked together, then maybe I could give her our poem as a present! I think she’d really like it, and she might even want to be friends with me!”

The demon looked like he was on the verge of either beaming with joy or bursting into tears, and was struggling to keep it all inside. Aziraphale chuckled at his reaction, nudging his foot with an elbow. “You should, Crowley. I’ve always wanted to read a poem of yours,” he admitted, smiling giddily at the very thought. “Perhaps I could put in the occasional word, as well! Oh, if that’s alright with you, Adam.”

But he was already nodding. “Sure, sounds good to me! You read lots of big books, so I bet you know a bunch of cool words too, Mr. Fell. So, um…” He scratched at the back of his head, feeling just a touch nervous. “What do you think?”

Crowley sniffled loudly, even though his expression was about as stoic as Adam had ever seen it. “Right,” he said, bringing a hand up to rub underneath his sunglasses. “Let’s get this done for your girl, Adam.”

* * *

A week or so later, Aziraphale received a letter in the mail. Adam’s address was written in the top left corner, and after being sufficiently excited that the youth of today did still choose to send the occasional letter, he had waited for Crowley to make his customary appearance in the bookshop. That way they could open it together, both sharing in the news. No doubt this was about the reception of their poem.

“Oh, this is so exciting!” Aziraphale reached across his desk for the letter opener, teasing the tip of the blade under the corner of the envelope. “I wonder what his crush thought of our work.”

Crowley unconsciously hissed in response, arms crossed and fingers tapping along the edge of his arm. He seemed just about as apprehensive as Adam had been when he first set foot into the shop that day. “They’re kids, angel. Kids get excited when they find a shiny coin lying in the street. I don’t expect ‘em to have deep, insightful thoughts about poetry like you and I do.”

The angel paused in the opening of the letter, sparing Crowley a sympathetic glance. “Would you care to do the honors?” he asked. “You seem to have more at stake here than I do.”

“No, Heaven’s sake - ughhhhh why’d I say that - just no,” he groaned, shaking his head. Aziraphale watched with an undeniable fondness as the demon crossed his arms even tighter over his chest. “You do it. ‘M fine, just… you do it. Okay?”

“As you wish.”

The letter wasn’t long, but then neither of them had thought that it would be. Adam was a busy child, and one who possessed a healthy appreciation of the outdoors. He wouldn’t want to be sitting at the table, wasting a perfectly beautiful day by writing for too long.

“What’s it say?” Crowley asked, hovering worriedly over the angel’s shoulder. “How’d it go? Did she like it, or not?”

“Hold on, give me a minute…” The angel’s eyes narrowed from behind his reading glasses, sitting on his nose as more of a pretense than anything else, and after enduring the feeling of Crowley’s chin digging into his shoulder for a while he grinned. “Why, how lovely! Apparently she adored the poem! Adam says that she asked him if he could write another sometime, and he wants to know if we might be able to visit him in Tadfield to help him come up with more material! I don’t see any reason why not, do you, dearest?”

But Crowley didn’t answer. He let out a strangled squeak, burying his face in the crook of Aziraphale’s neck. “She liked it,” he mumbled quietly. “She really liked it.”

All of the tension seemed to drain out of him at the realization, and it made Aziraphale smile to see his demon so happy. “Yes, love, she did.” He reached up to run his fingers through the flaming hair. “You really do have a way with words. I’ve been saying this for some time, now.”

“You helped, too.”

“I merely supplied a few points here and there. The bulk of our project was your doing.”

He felt Crowley’s smile against his skin, small and content. “Never thought anyone’d like my poems.”

“Balderdash. I knew from the beginning that if you ever wrote, it would be grand.”

“Angel.”

“Yes, dear?”

A pair of arms slid around his waist, squeezing softly. “You free this weekend?”

Aziraphale took that as a request rather than a question, and he was right to do so. He could feel it in the warm surge of love from behind him.

“Well, then,” he said, in a tone that implied it was already a done deal, “I’ll write it down on the calendar.”

**Author's Note:**

> And here we have a nice, fluffy story to counterbalance the bit of angst from yesterday. The line of poetry I made Crowley say near the end is just something I flung together. I'm really not that great at poetry, so I hope it's not too cringey! But anyway, thanks for reading!
> 
> Come and say hi on Tumblr!
> 
> You can find me at my main blog [@refraingirl](https://refraingirl.tumblr.com/) or at my writing blog [@refraingirl-the-writer](https://refraingirl-the-writer.tumblr.com/)!


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